Resistance (4 page)

Moving on autopilot, I navigate my bedroom in the
dark, not wanting to alert anyone on guard duty outside that I’m
awake. I pull a long sleeved tee shirt on over the camisole and
yoga pants I wore to bed and add a sweatshirt on top of that. I
pull on thick socks and my shoes, and rather than unbraiding and
brushing out my waist-length, black hair, I coil the thick braid I
wore to bed into a bun and quietly close my bedroom door behind me.
I eye the closed door opposite mine and strain to hear movement
from within. The last thing I need is my brother waking up now,
asking questions I don’t have the heart to answer.

I make my way down the hallway into the huge kitchen
at the back of our home. This used to be where I would find our
mother and father every morning, sitting with their heads bent
together over their coffee and breakfast, finalizing plans for
whatever project they were taking on that day. I ignore the chasm
in my chest as best I can. After six months you’d think I would
have learned how to live with their absence from my life. Instead,
this hole inside me only widens with time.

The kitchen is chilly in the pre-dawn hour and I make
a beeline for the coffee pot. I take comfort in the routine of
filling the basket with the aromatic freshly ground beans, adding
the water and setting the timer on the machine. I grab my gloves
from the hutch by the back door, knowing my fingers will be frozen
otherwise. I look around the silent kitchen, take it all in and
remind myself this is my normal now. Nothing amiss here, I tell
myself. I sigh, not able to lie, even to myself. The reality of the
situation settles around me again and I head out the back door.

The cold winter air bites at every exposed part of me
as I do some quick stretching, preparing for my daily run. Lately,
it seems the only time I can think straight is when I’m running;
letting my mind work out all the kinks and snags I encounter every
day now. I can honestly say I’m more in awe of my father now than I
ever was when he was here in front of me. How he managed to stay so
cheerful with all the ‘little’ things that can come up from day to
day in the running of this community of ours astounds me. It makes
me wish he was here even more than ever so I can hug him and tell
him how impressed I am, and how I’ll never be able to make things
look as easy as he did. I stop myself before sighing again and set
off for the path I take most mornings.

I’ve run my normal circuit twice and the sun is just
starting to brighten the sky when I start to seriously consider
breaking our law. When someone leaves our compound it’s understood
that if you don’t return, no one will be coming to find you. It’s
too big a risk to those left behind. We can’t chance being
discovered by the Courts, or all of our planning will have been for
nothing. So there was never a search party sent for my parents when
they didn’t turn back up. But now, at this moment, I would give
anything at all to leave the protective barriers of this city I
have always called home and set out to locate them — dead or alive.
I just need to know one way or the other so I can finally react
instead of being in this constant holding pattern of
almost-grief.

I could talk my cousin Sean into going with me — we
could leave tonight. My uncle Seamus could take over my
responsibilities to our people and I could just go. I know my uncle
wants no part of being in charge of anyone other than his children.
That’s how I ended up with the job to begin with. But I am sure I
can make him see reason…or I hope I can. My younger brother’s face
pops into my mind and I feel my plan disintegrate in an instant. It
doesn’t matter that I want to leave or that the truth about my
parents is out there in the world beyond these walls. I cannot
leave my brother behind, and bringing him along would be way too
dangerous. I can’t keep my promise to my father and follow my gut
at the same time, so I am stuck once again.

Frustration bubbles up inside me and I push myself to
run faster; imagining myself getting further and further away from
the responsibilities that dog my every step. Someday, I promise
myself, I will find out the truth. For the time being, I will have
to placate myself by learning as much as I can from here. With that
thought in mind, I realize I have a wealth of information literally
at my fingertips back home. My Gran, who I’m named for (may she
rest in peace) kept detailed journals, and no one knew more than
she did about faeries. Those journals should still be in my
family’s personal library on the third floor of our house.

Having finally made a decision, I find I can breathe
a little easier. I will talk to Sean today and I’ll at least be
able to tell myself that I’m doing something to help my parents. In
a small way, it helps hold back the constant worry that I’m failing
my family a little.

When I reach my house I see a tall, broad shouldered
man with dark hair sitting on the front steps drinking from a
steaming mug, and for just a moment I pretend it’s my father,
waiting for me like he used to. I blink away the illusion and my
uncle’s face comes into view. He pats the stone step next to him
and smiles a very low key version of his normally thousand watt
smile. I realize as I sit next to him that he looks tired, and I
make a note to take him off guard duty for the next few days. He
gives me a one-armed hug and kisses the top of my head. “Morning,
lass. Already done with your run?”

“Yeah, thought I’d get my day started. Why are you up
so early this morning?

He offers his mug to me and I wave him off as he says
around a yawn, “Haven’t been to bed yet, actually. I took Sean’s
shift on the border last night.”

I sit up a little straighter and tilt my head back so
I can see his face. “Why did you need to cover Sean? You worked all
day yesterday, Uncle Seamus. You need your rest.”

He looks a little shocked at my question. The blood
drains from his face, making the freckles spattered across his
cheeks stand out even more. He clears his throat before quietly
saying, “Fianna, today is Hugh Kennedy’s execution. Sean is taking
care of it for you, remember? Is this ringing any bells for you,
lass?”

I feel his words like a physical blow. How could I
have possibly forgotten that was today? Ice spreads through me as
Hugh’s wolfish smile and cold blue eyes appear in my mind’s eye. I
feel guilt form a solid mass in my gut, rise without meeting my
uncle’s eyes and put a shaking hand on his shoulder. “Of course I
didn’t forget. How could I? You get some sleep, please. I’m taking
you off the schedule for today and tomorrow. No arguments. I’ll see
you tonight for dinner.”

Without waiting for a response, I leave him sitting
there and head to the back of the sprawling four story brownstone I
have always called home. I can smell the strong coffee waiting for
me before I even open the back door and inhale deeply; working to
steady myself in case Eirnin is awake. I kick my shoes off once
inside and leave my gloves on top of the hutch sitting by the back
door. The house is quiet, which means my brother is either still
asleep or has already left the house for the day. Where he goes
when he silently skulks from the house and my presence I have no
idea. I can only hope that the guards I’ve assigned to keep tabs on
him and keep him safe are doing their jobs when he does.

I fill my favorite mug — one a younger cousin
handmade for me with clumsy flowers and butterflies painted on it —
with the steaming coffee, add a spoonful of sugar and take it to
the scrubbed pine table my mother used for her prep work when
cooking and baking. Since my parents left Eirnin and I eat our
meals here, not bothering with the hulking dining table in the
formal dining room that my mother served every meal at. I should
eat something but since my uncle mentioned Hugh’s name, I am
nauseous with self-disgust. It wasn’t that long ago that I’d met
him, and not a day has gone by since that I haven’t wished I’d
never given him even a moment of my time.

It was almost a year ago when Hugh entered our
compound with news of the next market meeting and asked if he could
stay for a while. Normally the people who show up with market news
are nomads. They simply pass through before heading to the next
human settlement with their information. But Hugh struck up a
friendship of sorts with my cousin Sean and decided he was tired of
always being on the move. He said he was ready to settle down for a
little while, at least.

My parents weren’t the most trusting of people, to
say the least. That’s why our people are still alive. So my father,
especially, was suspicious of Hugh from the start. He told me on
many occasions that he just didn’t ‘feel right’ about him being
here. That suspicion turned to outright dislike when Hugh and I
started dating. I tried to tell myself that my father wouldn’t have
been happy with any man I chose, but it still nagged at me. My
cousin Sean was really the only person in my family who had
approved of our relationship. That made sense to me then, seeing as
how he was the one who introduced us. Looking back, I wish I’d
listened to my father and told Hugh to take a hike.

I normally pride myself on my decision making
skills…really, I do. But Hugh was the first guy who paid any
attention to me at all in an even slightly romantic way. I’m not
proud of the things that happened while I was with him. He wasn’t
the type of person I ever thought I’d find myself involved with. He
was detached, or cold really, most of the time. For some reason, at
first I thought there was more to him than he showed everyone else.
I was wrong. He stood just over six feet with broad shoulders and
muscles everywhere, with blond hair that was always just a little
messy; just long enough to run your fingers through, but not so
long that it needed to be pulled back, and arctic blue eyes that
turned hard with no notice. Our ‘relationship’ didn’t last very
long, really. Just long enough to ruin my life as I knew it.

By the time I discovered the truth of the person he
really was, it was too late. My parents had left the city,
following information he’d given them, and I was struggling to fill
my father’s shoes. We were alone one evening, my brother already
shut inside his room for the night, and Hugh had come over for
dinner as was his new habit. I was cleaning the dishes and
straightening the kitchen while he sat and watched. I felt his gaze
on my body as I stretched to put glasses and plates where they
belonged. I could also feel the agitation rolling off of him in
waves. His treatment of me since my parents’ departure had been
abrasive to a new extreme. I couldn’t pinpoint what I had done to
spark his temper into overdrive this time, but I felt the fight
brewing while I went about my new nightly routine.

I finished wiping down the counter next to the sink
and folded the towel into a tiny square for something to do with my
hands. Trying for normalcy I turned around, leaned back against the
counter and asked, “Did you enjoy dinner?”

His mouth twisted, and for a moment he looked like
he’d tasted something sour before he said, “Oh sure. It was grand.
I love choking down dried out, flavorless-”

My own temper flared to life even though I knew I’d
pay for it later, and I cut him off. “I didn’t hear you complaining
when you wolfed it down! If you have such a problem with my
cooking, you can go elsewhere for your meals! I am beyond tired of
your attitude! I don’t understand why you keep coming to see me if
you’re so unhappy with every little thing I do!” This was so
typical of him, I thought to myself. He never has a kind word for
anyone. He only ever wants to tear people down and make them feel
small. If this constant mental warfare is what it means to be
‘with’ someone, I want no part of it anymore.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Fianna. This was never about
you. You were just a means to an end; some entertainment in this
awful place. Not good entertainment, either, by the way. I’m here
for him!” he bellowed at me, and gestured with his hand towards my
brother’s room. He blinked looking shocked at himself for revealing
that bit of information and I felt everything inside me go
cold.

I went completely still for a moment while fear and
anger warred with duty. I thought about the sacrifices I had made
to try and keep my brother safe and my father’s final words to me
rang in my ears: “Protect your brother. They will come for him.”
Oh, Dad,
I thought,
you were right as always, but they
were already here when you left us.
Without conscious thought,
I found myself holding my iron knife against Hugh’s throat and
yelling for the guard out back a moment later. Hugh didn’t look
very intimidated by my five feet-two inch female frame, and even
with the iron dagger at his carotid, his eyes still mocked me.
Though my hand did not shake as I pressed a little to show him I
meant business. His jaw tightened and I braced myself for the blow
to come, but when the back door opened and my uncle and a guard
came in with guns out, I backed up when my uncle told me to.

In the aftermath we learned that Hugh had lured my
parents into a trap set for them by persons he wouldn’t reveal. His
betrayal was twofold, and I was bound by our law to see him exiled
or executed. Due to the nature of his treachery, Seamus and I
decided that execution was the safest route for our people. There
was no telling the damage he would do if we let him leave. Sean
felt responsible since he pushed for me to give Hugh a chance to
begin with, so to try and make up for that, he offered to handle
the actual execution for me. I accepted with appreciation. I had no
desire to ever set eyes on Hugh Kennedy ever again.

As time passed, the talk within the city died down
and people stopped gaping at me and making sympathetic faces when
they saw me out. They didn’t know all the details, and I wasn’t
sharing. I found it was easy to pretend none of it had ever
happened when I kept my interaction with all people who weren’t my
family to a minimum. No one knew the guilt I carried around with me
all the time. I knew that if I hadn’t made us vulnerable to Hugh’s
game, my parents never would have given anything he said much
thought. They would still be here where they belonged. My brother
would talk to me again, I’m sure, and maybe even laugh and smile as
much as he used to.